The Trials and Tribulations of a Couple of Animals
by embrace-your-inner-dork
Summary: After regaining his mind from Malik, Pandora goes on a quest to find his beloved Catherine... only to find and conspire with a horribly drunk Pegasus! What next?
1. The Beginning

A/N: Okidoki, this is my sucky attempt at a humourous Pandora (Arkana, if you must) story. This chapter was written at 3:30 a.m. Yesh, it's weird. The rating is just in case... and also because Pandora's a pottymouth. The full title is "The Trials and Tribulations of a Couple of Animals." It's lame, I know. The bad pun comes from a Pegasus being an animal, and the fact that Pandora can be shortened to Panda, making them both have animal names. Dumb, huh? Anyway, on with the fic! Oh, and P.S., I need ideas to continue!

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Ouch.

Wait... I get tricked into being controlled by an evil Egyptian madman and become even more delusional then normal, to the point of thinking a mannequin was my sweet Catherine and that the key to a leg-slicer headed towards me had disappeared into thin air, and all I can say is ouch?

Dammit, I'm supposed to be the illusionist here.

Well, anyway, I was conscious, and I was free. But... wait, I was still delusional.

Which is why I decided to try again to get Catherine.

Now, it had just so happened that when I got to her apartment, I found she had changed the stupid lock. No matter, I always had the window.

Well, that's locked too.

And here I go, smash through the glass.

Again... ouch.

So I look up, expecting to see Catherine.

No such luck.

I came face to face with a man who looked like he was falling apart at the seams. His top hung open, and his hair was frazzled. Both eyes were different; one bloodshot, and one... glass? He looked like he had one hell of a headache, and the room stank of red wine, among other drinks.

I blinked.

He just stared.

I winced.

And then I wondered, what the hell is Pegasus J. Crawford doing here?

Anyway, he helped me up and sat me on a sofa. He sat beside me. Well, I thought, at least he's sober.

He chuckled and asked me if it was crash-through-people's-windows day. I told him the whole story. I don't know why, but I did.

He gave me this odd sort of smile and said that we were both in the same pickle jar.

Pickle jar? Okay... umm... yeah.

Letting out a deep sigh, he told me his story. I listened to every bit of it and realized... he was right. And it sure did explain a lot... but not everything.

"Now," I asked him, "if you're so rich, why are you in this dump?"

He shook his head and said he needed a little off time.

We sat in silence for a little while. Then, out of nowhere, he got an idea. No, I swear, I could practically see a cartoon lightbulb pop up over that man's head.

He asked to confirm if I was a magician, and I nodded. I asked what that had to do with anything.

"It's quite easy," he said. "Magicians are very clever, and two brilliant minds are better than one. And, of course, I have quite a bit of experience in wooing. So, you can help me find a way to resurrect Cynthia, and I shall assist you in finding and winning back Catherine!" A crazy grin was plastered on his face, and he waited for my approval. I was scared that he would explode if I declined, so I said yes.

Besides, we were both desperate.

And, dammit, it just sounded crazy enough to work.


	2. Sisters, Part 1

A/N: Okay, I know it's been a while. Honestly, this one I've actually been meaning to get around to for at least the past few months. Between trying to write in other fandoms and my constant on-again/off-again groundation from the internet, it's been a bit of a problem. Oh, and the glaring lack of YGO lately. Because of my glaring lack of money. Ick. Well, forgive me in advance for the insertion of an OC, but it was all I could come up with. Besides, Psyche and the secret subplot were gathering virtual dust, so I had to use them somewhere. So, uhm, here are the next two chapters, then.

* * *

Oh, god.

Catherine, oh god, you showed up.

What am I supposed to do? Cry? Hug you? Drop at your feet and beg mercy? On second thought, never mind, I'm doing all three. It's amazing you're letting me hug you, letting me _touch_ you, after all that shit I put you through. Yet, you're letting me, and you're even hugging back.

We can put the past behind us, can't we?

I can't help myself, I can't let go of you. God, your hair's as smooth as I remember, and your beautiful skin soft to the touch.

I know, I haven't even said anything, neither of us have. But then, do we really have to? God, it's been so long. I've missed you. I just keep hugging you, and...

...is your hand sliding up to my face?

God, Catherine, don't do that. Don't ruin the moment. No, don't do it, it's not worth it. Your hand is frozen on my face god, why'd you do it? You know I'm hideous now, that's what drove us apart before, why'd you do it?

I just pull you tighter, pressing your supple body against my own, and I can feel your...

Wait.

Something's wrong.

Okay, so it's a dream. No big deal. I'll just wake up and come crashing back down to reality and open my eyes and

"GAH!"

_In stereo._

I stared at him, and he stared at me, then he slowly took his hand off my face, and we both sort of untangled ourselves from each other, silently and without breaking eye contact.

He broke the silence by stating the obvious that I definitely wasn't his Cynthia.

No kidding.

I nodded, still staring, and agreed that he definitely wasn't my Catherine either.

Well, that cleared itself up nicely.

He blinked and put on the biggest, falsest grin I've seen in a long time, announcing loudly that he really needed a drink and offered me one as well. I took him up on it, because come on. After something like that, who wouldn't?

The smile still stuck to his face, he poured two really freaking big glasses of red wine. As if that wouldn't be enough of a buzz, I whipped out my flask - wasn't sure, but I think I had vodka in it that time - and spiked what he gave me.

Not that I'm a hopeless binge-drinker or anything, but that was just _wrong._

_Really_ wrong.

Regardless, he sort of stared at me when I poured my... whatever the hell was in my flask that day into the wine. It was almost like, WTF, you're ruining the perfect drink. But then again, this was _Pegasus J. Crawford_ I was dealing with.

I had to keep reminding myself of that.

I just kind of shrugged and took a swig of my concoction.

After a little bit, we were both pretty shitfaced, and the awkwardness of the morning had sort of blown over. I can't even remember if we really talked or anything.

Anyway, he was on his third glass or something, and I'd given up and resorted to the straight flask stuff.

Then, I got to thinking, though, that drunk people are crazy, and crazy people are brilliant, so I told him we should totally start planning while we were still smashed.

Granted, only someone who was smashed would say that, but it's okay.

He hiccupped and nodded, saying that we should start with what doesn't work.

Wow, that makes perfect sense. I didn't think of that when I was sober.

You gotta keep in mind that I'd been bleeding and such before, but still. I mean, I'm always crazy. But drunkenness is an enlightened crazy or something, I decided.

So, anyhow, we kept drinking and talking about the resources we'd already exhausted the hard way, most of which were things that sane people wouldn't have thought of. But then, if we were sane, would we have been doing this at all?

_Thud._

We both looked back at the door, which was wide open. Pegasus smirked and asked if we had another conspirator already.

The figure at the door said that whatever it was, she was in.

Okay, what now? I stumbled over to the person, evidently female, to figure out what the hell she was doing. Somehow, she seemed familiar...

She nodded and said my name. It's sort of a blur, but I think I asked how she knew me. Then I kind of squinted, trying to focus my poor drunken self to figure things out and--

OH MY GOD IT'S MY BABY SISTER.


	3. Sisters, Part 2

So, let me get this straight. I broke into an apartment in a crazed attempt to find and reconcile with my ex-fiancée, ended up finding a wasted billionaire on "break" there instead, made a freakish deal with him concerning our respective lovers, then we practically made out with each other in our sleep (each under the assumption that the other was said lover), and now I'm standing in front of a door that's been kicked open by my little sister that I haven't seen since my life started screwing itself over.

What the hell?

Being the pitiful and cowardly mess that I am, not to mention as drunk as I was, I threw my arms around poor little Psyche and started bawling like a baby.

Now that I think about it, I probably seemed weirder than usual. I mean, I'd bet that Pegasus and Psyche were both confused as hell, and they both know me well enough to know I'm a nutcase.

She just kind of blinked and put her briefcase down, patting me on the back, like I was someone to be pitied.

Which I totally was, of course.

Pegasus did his weird smile thing and asked who she was.

She smiled back and said he could call her Kalli Vega, private eye.

I frowned. What? I told her that she was a fat liar, and that she was Psyche Halliwell, my 19-year-old sister.

She was still kind of keeping me up, and told me in no uncertain terms to shut my face, she was undercover. If anyone asked, she was investigating the break-in.

Oh, yeah.

Oops.

That was me.

Psyche shrugged and told me she'd tell her boss that I lived there and I'd lost my key. Then she sort of let go of me

THUNK.

and opened up her briefcase, asking what we could tell her about our situation, so she could help and all.

Beaming as he normally did, Pegasus leapt right into the story. I guess he had a lot of hope that whatever our plan was would work, and especially since we had a P. I. on our side.

I, on the other hand, was still a delusional wreck crumpled up on the floor.

Since I couldn't get a word in edgewise, I sat and listened for a few minutes. Damn, my sister had gotten smart. I don't think I understood half the stuff she said.

Which was definitely a good sign.

And apparently, Pegasus knew what she was saying, because he kept replying in the same sort of jargon. Gah, my head was spinning.

Then she asked if he'd ever considered genetic engineering.

He nodded, but said he wasn't sure if what he had was enough.

She shrugged and told him that the genetic profiles of other family members would help as well, and asked if Cynthia'd had any siblings.

Yes, he told her, but she was a year older and had run away as a teen to be a showgirl or Broadway actress or something of the sort someplace far away from Vegas. He couldn't remember her name though.

Wait a minute... nah, it couldn't be.

She pondered and asked if there were any pictures of the sister.

He sighed and said, no, not exactly. There was one that used to have both the girls, but they'd gotten into a fight about the older one leaving, so Cynthia had cut her sister out of the picture and given it back to her because she sure didn't want it.

Maybe... no, I was getting too worked up.

Nodding, Psyche pulled out her laptop. She told him to go get the picture, and also asked what Cynthia's maiden name had been.

Back as soon as he'd gone, Pegasus brought the picture in and said that her last name had been Delacroix.

Now, by this point, I was sober enough to know something was up. I leaned in to listen, fighting the impulse to scream the suspicions that'd been building up since they started talking about this.

They kept talking, and she was typing furiously.

What was I, chopped liver?

I started rocking back and forth impatiently then I caught a glimpse of the picture.

I was right.

I WAS RIGHT!

I jumped up and started screaming like a banshee, earning crazy looks from the two of them. But I didn't give a flying rat's ass. I knew it!

Pulling out my admittedly empty wallet, I pretty much shoved my picture of Catherine in their faces. It had the exact same background that his picture of Cynthia did, and was cut unevenly on one side.

_And_ her last name was Delacroix!

_And_ she'd run away to New York to be a cabaret singer! (I should know that, because that's how she met me!)

It fit!

I was right!

My Catherine was his Cynthia's big sister!

I stood there staring at them like a psycho, and they stared back at me knowing I was a psycho.

Then Pegasus jumped up and hugged me.

Huh?

Psyche smiled a little. She said that she'd trace Catherine, but that what we'd just found out was a key part of how to solve both our problems. She went on and said that after she was done with the tracing, her work was done.

Pegasus and I were both jumping around laughing and screaming at "trace Catherine."


End file.
